


hierarchy of needs

by rangerhitomi



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8131154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangerhitomi/pseuds/rangerhitomi
Summary: "What can humans do that Barians can't?" Mizael wonders one day, before spending the entire afternoon conflicted about whether he wants Kaito Tenjo to kiss him. Out of curiosity, of course.





	

“What can humans do that Barians can’t?” Mizael wonders one day, and It’s not really a sudden question because he’s been pondering it for weeks. Months, maybe. Or it might have been a question at the back of his mind for as long as he can remember. As far as he can tell, there are few redeemable qualities to living life as a human. He can’t form portals to disappear and reappear wherever he wants at will, he’s susceptible to illness (and allergies, he discovers during his first spring) and injuries, he can’t throw balls of energy at people who are in his way, he’s stuck attending human _high school_ even though he’s centuries old and was a fully adult man in his old life.

Kaito doesn’t look up from his research, simply sets a few papers to the side and takes an idle sip of coffee from an unadorned mug. “Humans are capable of having a sense of humor, for one.”

For a moment, Mizael is tempted to scowl, but then he realizes Kaito was offering an example. “Ah, I see. You are demonstrating humor through fallacy.”

There’s no response, but Mizael thinks Kaito might have pouted for a split second. “Humans can eat,” Kaito says instead.

Mizael concedes this point (though he chooses not to mention Alit’s organic blended kale whey protein shake or some such nonsense, which was one of the worst experiences of any of his lives, and he was shot to death with arrows once). “I suppose food can be pleasurable. But it is also a necessity. Humans die without food.”

“What did Barians do for nourishment?” Kaito finally looks up from his research.

“We drank in the chaos energy of Barian World through our gems,” Mizael says bluntly. It’s an obvious answer, he thinks, but then again, humans often failed to consider the obvious.

Kaito taps his desk and stares at the wall, where he’s hung several posters with various diagrams and machines, including what looks like a blueprint for an upgrade for that obnoxious robot he has. “How do Barians show affection?”

“ _Affection_?” Mizael frowns.

“Yes, generally when expressing admiration or love for another—”

“I know what it means,” Mizael snaps, though judging by the slightly amused twist to Kaito’s mouth, Kaito suspects exactly what Mizael is thinking—not once does Mizael ever recall another of his fellow Barians express affection for another. He doesn’t even recall any of the others so much as smiling in a way remotely resembling affection. “We don’t show affection.”

“A sad life you must have lived up there in Barian World,” Kaito comments, tapping his pen on the desk as he leans back in his chair.

Mizael’s face gets hot with frustration. “You’re saying that humans are superior for their ability to be affectionate?”

“No, I’m saying I pity you for not receiving the affection you so clearly longed for.” Kaito leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. Only now does Mizael notice he’s wearing a button-down shirt and suspenders under his labcoat instead of the skintight monstrosity Kaito used to wear when they first met. He almost seems like a normal human now.

(Almost.)

But Mizael dismisses these feelings to address a deeper problem. “I don’t want your pity. I didn’t want affection from any of the others, either.”

“The only affection you received was from a dragon.”

“You can leave Tachyon out of this.”

Kaito rests his chin on a fist and scrutinizes Mizael for a long, silent minute. Mizael shifts in his seat and thinks about leaving but that would be like admitting defeat and he can’t do that, so he endures the scrutiny with as impassive a stare as he can muster.

“What about in your old life?”

“I had Jinlong.”

“Also a dragon.”

“Thank you for your insight, Kaito.”

Kaito gestures toward Mizael with his pen. “Was that sarcasm? You’re learning already.”

Mizael huffs and swings himself out of the chair, fully intending to leave without another word. He doesn’t know why he comes to Kaito when he’s feeling an aching loneliness—not when he could go to Durbe, or maybe Nasch, or if he’s really lonely Alit and Gilag—but…

“Mizael.”

He turns, and finds himself face-to-face with Kaito. Kaito’s not wearing his usual arrogant smirk, or his resting scowl, but an almost gentle, concerned look that Mizael is sure he only usually directs toward Haruto.

“What,” he says with less bite than intended.

“In human psychology, there is a pyramid showing basic human needs.” Kaito holds his hands up in a triangle shape. “There are some problems with it, but the foundation is fairly sound. At the bottom, there are basic needs, like food and water and sleep. Do you get these?”

The nightmares that plague Mizael—that plague them all, he’s sure—keep him awake most nights. But Kaito doesn’t need to know, and if he knows he doesn’t say anything. “More or less.”

“Safety?”

He’s safer here on Earth than he was in Barian World, or in the village of his birth, or in his adopted homeland. “I suppose.”

“Companionship?”

“You’re an engineer, not a psychiatrist,” Mizael says, but as he’s turning away, Kaito catches him by the wrist. The motion takes them both by surprise, and Kaito releases Mizael almost as quickly as he’d grabbed him.

“I was lonely once, too,” Kaito says in an undertone. “I took on a burden too big to handle on my own, and it almost killed me.”

“It _did_ kill you. I was there.”

Kaito ignores him. “You were the one with everything to lose. I was just an angry teenager with magic powers and a time-freezing robot.” It probably isn’t meant to be an attempt at humor—it’s hard to tell, with Kaito—but Mizael snorts anyway. “I was really alone, and the only one who wasn’t Haruto who made me feel wanted had left me and I couldn’t understand why—”

“Do all humans have an inherent need for physical affection?” Mizael interrupts, because he’s not really interested in listening to Kaito’s unabridged reminiscences about Christopher Arclight, who Mizael had killed once, which was a little awkward.

Kaito doesn’t even seem annoyed that Mizael had cut him off, but rather a little embarrassed judging by the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and shoves his hands in his lab coat pockets. He doesn’t look at Mizael’s face. “Not… all humans, no.” He takes a breath. “Do you… not remember that feeling from your first life?”

He’d tried to remember but most memories of his early life are a blur of fire and screaming. “I try to forget what I felt in that life,” he says curtly.

“Well,” Kaito says, looking him in the eyes at last, “you’re here for a reason, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m here,” Mizael says, nonplussed. “It’s not like Yuma Tsukumo gave me a choice to come back—”

“No, I mean… here. In my lab.”

There’s a pregnant pause in which Mizael tries to think of a reason he keeps coming to visit Kaito specifically, but every reason sounds more like a terrible excuse that is also probably a lie, like _I’m bored_ or _the other Barians aren’t very enjoyable to hang out with_ , because, really, Kaito Tenjo isn’t the most exciting person either now that he’s not flying around the city in a coat and leggings while ripping souls out of people’s chests, and half the time the two of them end up sitting in silence while Kaito does longhand calculus— which is in fact the most _un_ exciting aspect of being human that Mizael has encountered thus far—and only sometimes do they talk, which usually consists of _can you hand me that five millimeter hex socket bit_ followed by _goddamn it do you even know what a hex socket is, Mizael, no, it’s a hexagon, the one with the six sides, for the love of god it’s the, you know what give me the kit, just give me the damn kit._

Now he’s rambling in his own head and Kaito is staring at him with his eyebrow raised and Mizael’s pretty sure Kaito is now aware that he kind of likes Kaito’s company, which proves Kaito’s whole point, and he might as well just go all the way so he knows what it’s like so they can pretend it never happened and move on with their lives.

“Show me human affection,” Mizael announces, and Kaito’s other eyebrow lifts.

“How,” Kaito says slowly, watching Mizael warily.

“Whatever you find appropriate.”

“With you, nothing would be appropriate.”

“Humor me.”

Kaito takes a deep breath, steps forward, and awkwardly wraps an arm around Mizael’s shoulders. He sort of pats Mizael’s back before stepping away again.

Mizael is completely underwhelmed. “That was pathetic, Kaito.”

Kaito turns away with a _tsk_ and straightens a pile of already perfectly straightened papers on the corner of his desk. His face is red. “Hand me the seven millimeter hex socket bit, Mizael.”

“This one?”

“That’s a star tip, Mizael.” Kaito turns a little to find Mizael standing right next to him. He hides his startled jolt well. “I’m not working with screws right now, I’m using—hey!”

Mizael plucks the tool out of Kaito’s hand and sets it on the desk. “You’re not working, you’re avoiding.”

“I’m not avoiding anything,” Kaito says, avoiding Mizael’s eyes again.

“That’s convincing.”

Kaito picks up his cold cup of coffee from the desk and takes a sip. “I take back what I said earlier, you shouldn’t learn humor.”

“I want you to try something.” Mizael tries to prepare himself mentally by repeating in his head _this is just out of curiosity, nothing more._ It’s not entirely convincing. “Give me a kiss.”

He should probably have waited until Kaito had finished drinking, because Kaito misses his mouth and accidentally dumps some coffee on his shirt. They scramble for some clean cloths and water and Mizael helps Kaito dab at the coffee, though it’s still probably going to stain; Kaito says as much under his breath as he shrugs off his lab coat. He’s halfway through unclasping one of his suspenders when he freezes, looks up at Mizael, and says “you were serious.”

“I am simply curious,” Mizael replies lamely, and he curses the interruption of the coffee spill because he had prepped himself and now he was back to square one, “to see if I have an innate desire for physical affection or if I merely require your lousy company for fulfilment of companionship. You’re a scientist, think of this as an experiment.”

“I can’t tell if I should be insulted.”

“Will you or not?”

“If I do,” Kaito says slowly, “and it does end up being something… you want… what then?”

Mizael hasn’t made it to that point yet. As far as he’s concerned, he won’t like it and that’ll be the end of it. “If I do,” he says instead, “I’ll find someone else so I don’t have to constantly seek out your droll company.”

Kaito snorts softly and stares intently at Mizael’s hair ornament. “Fine. I guess I’ll be your lab rat.”

And then Kaito kisses him.

It’s not an entirely unpleasant feeling, Mizael decides, though it’s not exactly _exciting_ ; Kaito sort of starts touching Mizael’s lips with his tongue before apparently deciding against it—maybe it’s an accident—and when he pulls away he’s crimson. Kaito licks his lips and Mizael mirrors him; he thinks Kaito must also be trying to decide if it was enjoyable, or at the very least worth doing again sometime, which Mizael thinks it might be, but only if Kaito were to add a little more movement in the gesture. Kaito swallows, turns, and pulls his lab coat back on, apparently deciding not to remove his shirt to clean it.

“Well?” and Kaito’s voice is a little high.

“Maybe it will require a few more experiments,” Mizael says, more calmly than he actually feels, which is conflicted and not a little confused, “but not today.”

“Fine.” Still not looking at him, Kaito holds out a hand. “Five millimeter socket wrench.”

The rest of the afternoon passes in (mostly) silence, broken by the occasional _that’s a screwdriver, you Neanderthal,_ and _seven is bigger than five, Mizael_. It’s enjoyable, in its own way, even if Kaito isn’t what most people would consider good company, but Mizael probably isn’t either so this, he decides, is what he needs, and maybe it’s what Kaito needs, too.


End file.
